


'Til The End of the Line

by Emberxashton



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captivity, Eventual Romance, Kidnapping, M/M, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Protective Bucky Barnes, Smut, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22222807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emberxashton/pseuds/Emberxashton
Summary: The "rough" beginnings of a Marvel fix it while also leading into a different fic and serving as a "What if" all in a single chapter. More tags to follow! For now this is just a once shot, but it could be a series if readers are interested! Please leave a comment and let me know!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 35
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

_Cause I’m with you ‘til the end of the line,_ Bucky’s voice sounded through the darkness. His tone was comforting, warm. It embraced Steve like a lover as he descended further into nothingness, into death. At least, he figured he was dying, why else would the darkness feel welcoming and soothing like Bucky’s voice from all those years ago when he tracked him down after his mom’s funeral? He could almost feel the hand he had placed on his shoulder, squeezing gently, assuring him that everything was going to be okay.

Now it would be.

The last remnant of his old life, the one person who was always there when everyone else had gone, was there one last time for Steve. Bucky might have been the Winter Soldier for years and years after Hydra’s manipulation and torture, but Steve was finally able to save him by breaking through those walls and pulling Bucky free just as Steve fell from his grasp. The last thing Steve saw before the darkness took him was Bucky staring at him with wide eyes as he hung from the plummeting helicarrier, watching him fall.

In all honesty, Steve couldn’t have picked a better way to go, should this be his time to meet the reaper. This way he might be able to see his friends again, his mom, maybe even Howard if there was any justice where he was going. His only regret was that Bucky wouldn’t be there waiting for him. That’s okay because Steve would wait for him, he’d wait a thousand years and a thousand more if it meant he got to have Bucky at his side again. If it meant he got hold him again, hug him close and never let go.

Another voice entered the darkness. A man’s voice, but not Bucky’s. It was smooth, melodic, like a bird flying through the wind, fluttering the feathers in its wings as it sang its tune. That’s what the man was doing, he was singing. His voice grew louder, percussive music entering the void, latching onto Steve and pulling him up as the darkness melted and gave way to a sharp, blinding light.

Steve woke up in a hospital room, hurting everywhere imaginable, wanting to throw up, but he was alive. The music was loud, filling the room and Steve’s heart with a pleasant contentment that made him sigh in relief before his chest constricted. He was alive, he was safe, but Bucky wasn’t. He needed to find him, to help him before anyone could hurt him or worse.

“Take it easy man.” Sam’s voice cut off his mental tirade with such perfect timing Steve wondered if he said it out loud by accident. Sam placed a hand on Steve’s arm, one of the few places that didn’t hurt. “We got the bad guys. SHIELD. HYDRA. They’re toast. No more.”

Steve took a deep breath, wincing slightly at the pain, “we didn’t get all of them though.”

Sam sighed, nodding slightly, “No one knows where he is. He disappeared.”

“I have to find him Sam, before someone else does. They’ll kill him. I can’t let that happen.”

“I know man, but you have to heal first. You can’t help anyone if you’re not whole.”

Steve tried to sit up, but Sam held him down gently at his shoulders, pushing him down into the hospital bed and keeping him in place.

“Cap, you need to rest. If you don’t you take the time to heal, you’re only going to hurt yourself even more.”

“I need to find him,” Steve grated, looking at Sam with pleading eyes.

“You will, we will, but not right now.”

The lights went out, squeals of confusion and distress sounded through the hallway. The guards that stood outside his room could be seen through the window brandishing their weapons, talking through the mikes to discern the situation. Sam stood next to Steve protectively, pulling a gun out from his side holster and aiming it at the doorway. Steve grunted in pain, the bullet wounds screaming as he sat up, surveying what he could.

“Don’t you dare get out of bed,” Sam growled, advancing towards the door.

“If they’re coming for me- “

“They’re not, or at least they shouldn’t be. Fury, Hill and Nat are the only other people who know that you’re here.”

“You sure about that?” He asked, his breath catching at the sound of screams escalating from the hallways, sending the guards running with their weapons cocked.

“Shit,” Sam cursed, opening the nearby closet and grabbing a wad of clothes.

“Put those on,” Sam ordered, facing the door and aiming his weapon once more.

Steve didn’t argue. He gingerly removed the needles form his arms and the hospital gown from his body. The cool air kissed his naked skin, making Steve tremble and remember those cold nights in Brooklyn where he had to huddle against Bucky to keep warm. He glanced at his chest and saw the bandages covering up the places he was shot. They needed to be changed soon, his blood already staining the one on his side, but there was no time for that. The screams intensified as he pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants over his boxers and a Navy-blue hoody that brandished the hospital logo. Once clothed he headed towards the door, knocking into his shield as he did so. He caught it before it tumbled to the ground and slid it onto his arm. His adrenaline started pumping, which helped with the pain considerably but didn’t rid him of it. He stood next to Sam at the doorway, ready to act when necessary.

There was another shout, a man’s gruff, terrified voice, “Grenade!” and then a loud, shattering boom went off. The floor shook beneath Sam and Steve, bracing themselves against one another. They looked at each other with fear and resolve. Fear for the unknown. Resolve for finding out what it was.

“On my six,” Sam ordered, opening the door and gingerly stepping out into the hallway.

The hallway was a massacre. Bodies strewn about, some dead while others howled in pain and pleaded for help. Smoke filled the area, making it hard to breathe and hard to see, his bare feet stepping on glass and kicking away fallen debris. Steve covered his face with his hoody, hoping it would help as they tried to find an escape of some sort. He didn’t want to leave the people behind, but whoever did this was here for him. It was the only explanation. It would only stop when he found him, or when Steve escaped him.

The pair didn’t get very far when a figure emerged from the smoke and caught Sam off guard. He tore the gun from his hands and hit him in the temple with the blunt handle, sending him to the ground.

“Sam!” Steve shouted, attempting to use the shield on the figure when a metal hand shot out of nowhere to grab it from him. Throwing him onto the floor, he slid down the hallway for a good few seconds before his back hit the wall with a loud crack. The air knocked out of him, pieces of dry wall fell onto his body, onto the bullet wounds where he felt the stitches had ruptured. His eyes watered, lungs gasping for breath, hands getting underneath him to push him to his feet. Suddenly Steve was pulled backwards, the collar of his hoody digging into his neck as he was roughly pulled and thrown into another room like a ragdoll.

He was thrown shoulder first into a cabinet, all sorts of bottles and supplies falling to the ground just before he did. He tried to get up and fight, but the assailant was on him again, taking his hands and making quick work of restraining them behind his back. He let out a cry, the pain from his wounds intensifying during his struggle, undoubtedly opening more of them. The attacker was strong and fast, stronger and faster than anyone Steve had ever faced before, except for one. Once he was restrained, Steve could see the metal hand from the corner of his eye as he was grabbed at the shoulders and pulled his feet before being shoved face first against the wall.

“Bucky,” he gasped, eyes going wide.

“Shut up,” Bucky growled, frisking Steve with calm precision. “Do what I say and no one else gets hurt.”

“What are you doing?!”

Steve was roughly turned around, his back slamming into the wall with Bucky’s lethal metal hand squeezing his throat, holding him there. His dark hair was tied back, revealing his strong, admittedly handsome face. His jaw was clenched, blue eyes set in a determined, angry gaze with deep shadows underneath, like he hadn’t slept since the helicarrier imploded.

“I’m getting out of here,” he growled. Then he leaned in close, inches away from Steve’s face. His hot breath danced across Steve’s skin, sending shivers up his spine and his body start to sweat, “and you’re coming with me.”

He roughly pulled Steve away from the wall and onto an exam table, his shoulder popped upon impact due to his hands being restrained behind his back. He let out of scream of pain, and immediately Bucky covered his mouth with his flesh hand.

“Do you want anyone else to get hurt?” Bucky growled, his face inches away from Steve as he squirmed in pain beneath him.

It took a minute to respond before he eventually shook his head no, unable to speak with Bucky’s hand still over his mouth.

“Do as I say. Don’t run from me, don’t fight me, don’t alert anyone to who you are. If you rebel, someone will die. Understood?”

Steve felt his chest caving in on itself, his gut tightening into a ball filled with thumbtacks and needles. Try as he might he couldn’t control his expression, which meant Bucky saw the absolute terror in his eyes. Still, no matter how scared he was or how much pain he was in, he found that he was nodding to Bucky’s demand, who gave a short, curt nod in response.

He backed away from the table to grab a bag within one of the hanging cupboards. He pulled out a baseball cap, a grey shirt, and a denim jacket that he quickly changed into, a plethora of weapons that ranged from a swiss army knife to a mini grenade launder that he somehow tucked into his pants without so much as a bulge. There was one last thing he pulled out of the bag before tucking it somewhere that Steve couldn’t see.

“What was that?” Steve grated, trying to sit up.

Bucky turned and grabbed Steve’s right leg, turning him roughly until his legs dangled above the floor. Then he took a fistful of Steve’s hoody and stood him up, catching him as he stumbled. He took a moment to steady him, assessing the damage Steve had taken before turning him around again and shoving him towards the door.

“Remember my rules. Do as I say, and no one else will die.” He whispered in Steve’s ear, pulling the hood onto Steve’s head and grasping his shoulder tightly. Just before they exited, Steve heard the distinct sound of a button clicking. Instantly, the hospital shook with a thunderous sound followed by more screams of terror. Only then did Bucky open the door.

“Lean into me,” he demanded, wrapping an arm across Steve’s back as he led them through the smoke that filtered the hallway. It was harder to see, harder to breathe. An excellent cover for the pair as they maneuvered through the smoke together. Steve risked a glance to where Sam had fallen only a few short minutes ago. He didn’t see him, which meant that he was okay, hopefully.

Bucky kept a tight grip on Steve as they made their escape. Not once did Steve try to run or fight Bucky. Not once did he flag down a guard or a recognizable face to alert them of his position. He followed Bucky’s rules, and Bucky kept his promise. No one got hurt as they went through the halls and stairwells of the hospital. It wasn’t until they got to the ground floor that Steve faced his hardest test.

Near the entrance Natasha stood with a panicking Sam, her eyes scouring the fleeing patients and guards as they helped them through the doors. Steve instinctively moved towards them, not thinking about anything except going to them and helping them protect the civilians and reassure them that he was okay. Bucky roughly pulled him back into the stairwell they had exited, and shoved him against the wall, using his entire body to trap Steve there.

“What did I say?” Bucky growled, his hot breath pounding Steve’s skin, making his body feel weird things amidst everything else.

“Where are we going, Buck? Where are you taking me?” Steve pleaded with his friend while understanding that his friend wasn’t in complete control. The soldier was calling the shots now, but only to a point where Steve was concerned. He was sure of it. He’d be dead otherwise.

“Away,” he breathed, his eyes alight with a cold intensity he hated seeing on Bucky’s face.

“Away where?”

“You’ll find out, if you behave.” Screams and doors slamming from above distracted Bucky for a second. “I told you what happens if you rebel.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “No! Bucky, don’t!”

Bucky’s flesh hand covered his mouth, muting his screams. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He glanced away for a second to type something before looking Steve dead in the eyes _you did this_ and then pressed send.

Off in the distance, somewhere close by but not in the hospital, a series of explosions occurred, something that sent a whole host of people running past the stairwell door with a panicked ferocity that left Steve wanting to fall to the floor in shock. Bucky didn’t let him fall, he kept him on his feet as he pulled him back to the door, waiting two breaths before pulling the door open and heading towards the back exit with the crowd running from the front entrance instead of towards it.

Steve tried to get a look, to see if Nat or Sam were okay, if they were even alive, but Bucky held him in a tight grip and pulled him with the crowd.

Before he could take a breath, they were outside. Steve looked up at the hospital, smoke and flames had consumed the upper floors, the same floor where Steve had awakened not even twenty minutes ago. Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders and together they took a sharp left and headed towards a row of cars that looked nearly identical. All of them were silver, same make and model, even the same emblems on the bottom left corner of the windshield. Steve noticed the emblem was a white sticker that said _Nice Try!_ With a stupid cartoon face behind the words wearing an expression that was meant to taunt the reader.

Bucky pulled Steve to the passenger side of the second to the last car in the row. “Get in,” he said, pulling off Steve’s hood in order to grab his hair and throw him inside. He sat awkwardly in the front seat, his bound hands digging sharply into his back, the way in which his body was angled made the pain worse, even with the adrenaline pulsing through his system. Bucky climbed into the driver’s side in record time, pressing a few more buttons on the phone before turning to Steve.

“Lean forward,” he ordered, grasping his shoulder.

“I can’t, bullet wounds.” Steve grated out, staring at Bucky in accusation.

A flash of emotion went through Bucky’s eyes, which emotion Steve couldn’t tell. “Scooch forward on the seat and lean as best you can. I’m going to switch your bonds around.”

Steve stared at him for a moment, unsure of what Bucky was really planning before going along with it and following his request. Within a few seconds Steve was momentarily released from his bonds, momentarily free to fight Bucky, but then Bucky caught Steve’s face with his metal hand and made him look at the phone on the dash.

“Follow my rules,” he reminded, and Steve acquiesced, not wanting anyone else to get hurt because of him. He gingerly held his hands out, and Bucky bound them together once more with a metal like rope (one that Steve couldn’t tear no matter how hard he tried) in a speedy yet detailed manner before turning the keys in the ignition, pressing send on the phone.

“What are you doing? I didn’t rebel!”

“It wasn’t for that,” Bucky reassured, nodding to the other silver cars down the line. Steve watched as all of them one by one quickly turned on, even though no one was in any of the driver seats.

“What the hell?” Steve mumbled as Bucky reached across him. Steve turned to look at him, and their faces almost collided due to the proximity.

For a long, tenuous moment neither of them moved. Steve was rooted in place largely out of pain, fear, and confusion, but there was also something else nagging at the surface as he looked into Bucky’s eyes and Bucky looked back into his. The breath tickling his skin, the heat emanating from Bucky caused Steve’s body to react in ways he hadn’t felt since the 40’s. Bucky leaned a bit closer, his eyes darting across Steve’s face. He felt his lips part in response, and the overwhelming urge to kiss him threatened to take him by force. The pain in his abdomen stumped the urge as he took a ragged breath and winced, turning away in attempt to hide how much pain he was in.

Bucky reached passed him to grab something. The seatbelt. His metal hand grasped the leather strap and slowly, surely pulled it across Steve’s body and bound hands before clicking it into place, his eyes never leaving Steve’s as he stared him down. For a brief second Steve thought he saw a wistful look in his eyes before he grunted and turned back to the steering wheel.

Once he was buckled in, he turned away to grab the phone from the dash. He was texting what appeared to be a mismatch of numbers and words, some sort of code. He pressed send again, and this time each of the cars had a driver and a passenger. Figures that looked and dressed exactly like Bucky and Steve.

Steve’s eyes widened as Bucky put the car in reverse, and one by one, starting at the end of the line, the cars pulled out and departed. Bucky pulled out when it was his turn to go and before Steve could comprehend what was happening, they were driving passed the hospital.

For some reason Steve hasn’t realized the full gravity of the situation, or maybe the shock he was in was preventing him from grasping the fact that he was injured and reinjured, bound and almost helpless in a car that was being driven by his mind controlled best friend who may or may not be in control of his actions and was currently kidnapping him. It wasn’t until the identical silver cars ahead of him started splitting up and taking random paths that he realized how bad this was, and it wasn’t until he saw Sam and Nat sitting on the edge of an ambulance outside of the hospital being tended too that he well and truly started to panic.

As if Bucky could sense this, his flesh hand grabbed Steve’s bound hands, his thumb caressing the back of his left hand gently as he continued driving, his eyes scanning the busy streets of DC.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here soon.”

“Where are we going?” Steve asked, desperate for answers, for anything to distract him from the panic threatening to consume him.

“Away,” Bucky responded, glancing at Steve before he continued, “somewhere where we’ll be safe.”

“Where’s that?” Steve pleaded, his breaths coming faster than was good for him.

“Take deep breaths, you’re going to pass out if you keep going like that.”

“Did you really kill all those people, the ones on my floor. The bomb you set off when we were in the stairwell?” Steve demanded, his hands fisting beneath Bucky’s calloused, yet surprisingly gentle grip.

He glanced at Steve, “I told you what would happen if you rebelled.”

He felt his chin quiver, tears threatened to fall, his breath hitched as he attempted to stop the sob from coming, until Bucky continued.

“And if that had been a real bomb, many would have died.”

Steve looked at him in shock, his eyes going impossibly wide as his mouth fell open, “real bomb?”

“It was nothing more than a distraction, filled with smoke and non-lethal gas to ensure maximum occupancy on the ground floor so our escape would have extra coverage.” He paused, looking at Steve. The calculated look softened slightly, “I only killed the ones that got between you and me.”

“Not Sam though.”

“No, he’s your friend. He looked out for you, and I owe him for that.” He looked back to road, squeezing Steve’s hands before continuing, “but if you break my rules again Steve there will consequences, real ones this time.”

“Bucky, you don’t have to do this.”

Steve tried to move, but Bucky’s grip tightened on his hands.

“Yeah, I really do Stevie,” he took a steadying breath, “it’s the only way to keep you out of trouble.”

It’s been over 70 years since he heard that nickname, and Bucky was the only one to ever call him that. “You remember me?”

Bucky hesitated, thinking about his answer, “you were smaller, sickly, always getting into fights you couldn’t win.”

“I won the last one,” Steve panted, his eyes focused on Bucky’s face.

“Yeah, and you would have died too if-” Bucky stopped, his jaw clenching.

Steve felt a wave of calm brush over him, “you pulled me from the river. You saved me. Why?”

Bucky didn’t answer, but he squeezed Steve’s hands gently as he expertly weaved through the traffic.

“What else do you remember?”

“Not much, just flashes of things. A shitty apartment filled with holes, a red wagon, you in some dirty alley with your face bashed in with some punk over you.” He shook his head, eyes blazing, “you’re always getting into trouble.”

“I don’t like bullies, and I won’t stand by when they hurt good people.”

Bucky nodded slightly, “and I made sure you didn’t get killed doing it.”

“Is that what’s happening? Is that why you’re here?”

Bucky looked at Steve, really looked at him for a good solid moment, before turning back towards the road.

“Buck, they’re done. HYDRA. SHIELD. We took them down. Those goons won’t be able to get me, get you ever again. We’re safe from them.”

“You’re a fool if you really believe that,” Bucky growled, his metal hand tightening on the steering wheel as he continued to weave through traffic.

“Bucky, listen to me, we destroyed them-”

“You destroyed the main office, not the outposts. Sleeper agents will have been activated by now to either finish the job, hide evidence, or continue their work elsewhere. You and your team didn’t destroy anything, you only made it harder to cut off the heads of the snakes that follow the monster.”

“Then we’ll find them too, no matter how long it takes.”

“Your team can waste all the time in the world trying to do that, but you won’t be part of it.”

Steve stared at him, “what do you mean?”

Bucky squeezed his hands, his only response.

“Buck, what are you saying?”

At this moment Bucky took a sharp turn, jostling the two of them in the car as he pulled a U-turn and somehow ended up in a big parking garage, driving up and up until they were on one of the middle levels that was out of camera range.

He parked quickly and concisely, exiting the vehicle just as he turned it off. Within seconds Steve’s side was open before he even had a chance to assess the situation, to understand Bucky’s motives. In a breath Bucky unbuckled the seatbelt and gingerly pulled Steve from the car, dragging him away as he pulled out his phone again and texted another code to the mysterious number.

“What are you going to do, make the car blow up?”

“No, I’m wiping it’s memory, then starting the timer for when it will self-destruct.”

“Buck you can’t do that, it’s going to kill someone!” Steve argued, attempting to pull away, but Bucky was having none of that.

“The timer is clearly seen on the dash, giving the poor sap time to evade should someone come investigating,” Bucky growled, turning Steve in his arms and shoving him back first into the nearest car, his metal hand going to Steve’s throat while the other maintained its hold on his bonds, “and if you don’t lower your voice I will fucking gag you, make no mistake about it.”

“Are you going to kill me,” Steve grated out, his eyes wide with fear.

Bucky reared back slightly, “what?”

“Is that what this is all about? Just a long, drawn out plan to kill me?”

The shock on Bucky’s face quickly melted away as he realized the gravity of Steve’s question. His clenched his jaw and tightened his hold on Steve’s throat, his eyes alight with a fire Steve hadn’t seen in Bucky for 70 years.

“If I was going to kill you, I would have left you in the river to drown.”

“Then what did you mean?” Steve pleaded to Bucky. “What are you going to do?”

Bucky growled, “you’ll find out soon enough.”

He didn’t give Steve time to respond when he abruptly pulled them away from the car and continued walking up the lot. Soon they happened upon a black Ford Explorer and when Bucky turned abruptly towards the car Steve realized this was there actual getaway ride, the final stop before Bucky decided to take them…wherever he was planning. He headed for the passenger side, but he didn’t open the passenger door though; he opened the door to the backseat.

Steve started struggling, not able to do much with the pain in his torso and shoulder but struggling all the same. Bucky responded by grabbing his hair, using all his strength to wrestle Steve inside. He landed on the cushions with a loud grunt of pain, followed by more as Bucky leaned in to arrange him to his liking. He shifted Steve so that he was on his stomach, ignoring the wheezing pants Steve was struggling to breathe, and started tying his legs together in a quick, precise manner, just as he did earlier with the bonds on his wrists. Once done he quickly maneuvered Steve, putting him on his back, allowing Steve to breathe once more. He let out a moan of pain, traitorous tears falling down his face and onto the leather cushions. At first it made him feel useless, embarrassed to cry on top of everything that just happened, but then he felt shock.

Shocked because Bucky was staring at him with what could only be described as grief. The cold calculated look in his eyes melted away as he fully entered the vehicle, carefully straddling Steve’s broken body before he leaned forward, careful to avoid the areas that caused Steve the most pain as he wiped the tears from his face.

“Steve,” he whispered gently, his calloused fingers softly caressing Steve’s cheeks, his lips, his jaw as he leaned in closer, closer, and closer until their faces were inches apart. Even with all the pain, Steve’s heart fluttered at the proximity, at the human emotion in Bucky’s face that contrasted so wildly with the Soldier’s cold demeanor. His already wheezing breath hitched as he weakly responded, “Bucky, why are you doing this?”

“Because Stevie,” Bucky’s forehead touched his own briefly while his fingers tightened on Steve’s jaw. “You’re mine,” he growled just as his lips pounced on Steve’s, leaving him gasping and writhing for an entirely new reason.

The kiss didn’t last long, just enough for Bucky to get his taste of Steve while Steve found his lids closing in what could only be confused ecstasy, before he pulled back, “and I’m not losing you again.”

Steve saw the cold calculation return before he roughly turned Steve’s head to the side. It wasn’t far enough to do any more damage than there already was to Steve, but just enough to expose his neck. Before he had any chance to stop it, Bucky’s metal hand reached into the jacket and revealed a syringe. With a cold realization Steve knew that the syringe was the mysterious item he missed earlier when Bucky was rifling through his bag. Bucky took the cap off with his teeth, quickly tested the needle before puncturing and emptying the contents into Steve’s neck, leaving him screaming and writhing beneath him once more.

“Don’t worry Stevie, it’ll wear off in a few hours. When you wake up, you’ll be safe and far away from here.”

“Buck, please don’t-” Steve whimpered beneath him, “you can’t just take me, people will be looking for me, for us.”

“Can’t take what you already have,” Bucky mumbled after carefully pulling the syringe out of Steve and capping it before throwing it out of the open car door. He ripped off the denim jacket and cap, replacing the cap with a different, brighter color one that was laying on the floor of the car, along with a red shirt he quickly pulled over the grey one.

“Bucky,” Steve tried pleading with his friend, but to no avail. Bucky reached down to the floor of the car behind him and pulled up another shirt, tearing it apart with ease before balling it up and heading towards Steve again.

Steve’s eyes went wide and immediately he turned his face away, trying to make his body move and fight, to do something other than staying pliant with fear and shock.

“No, no, no! Bucky, no! Stop! No-” Steve cried out as Bucky grabbed at his face, forcing his mouth open and shoving the cloth into his mouth, muting his screams instantly. He placed his hand over his mouth the keep the cloth there as he reached into the center console and dug out something that sent Steve into more of a panic.

Duct tape.

Bucky unrolled it before tearing off a piece with his teeth all the while keeping Steve pinned to the leather seat with his knee pressed against his chest.

“No more questions.” Bucky stated as he roughly placed the tape over his mouth and the cloth shoved inside of it, smoothly out the edges to insure it stay on. “I did warn you though.”

Steve’s screams were muted, but the tears escaping couldn’t be silenced, just as Bucky couldn’t ignore them.

“Just relax Steve, it’ll be over soon. Breathe, let the sedative take you. It’ll calm you down, make you feel better for a short while.” Bucky looked up at the lot around them, surveying the area before returning his worried gaze to Steve.

“Don’t worry Steve, I got you. I’ll protect you, like I always have.” His calloused hand caressed Steve’s cheek bone, wiping away the fallen tears. “‘til the end of the line.” He whispered before gently kissing Steve’s forehead. “Rest.”

He pulled away then, the cold calculation back in his eyes as he grabbed the denim jacket and threw over Steve’s face. Steve could feel him do a few more things, messing with the bonds on his legs, his hands, wrapping something around his chest that pulled him closer to the seat, fastening him in. Not even thirty seconds later the driver’s side door opened. The engine kicked, the tapping sounds from his phone followed by the whoosh of pressing end, and then once again they were moving. Only this time Steve wasn’t as panicked as the first time because the sedative Bucky administered was kicking in, and for the first time in what felt like a long time Steve felt okay, and before he realized it the darkness overtook him once again.


	2. Never Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky (kind of) explains his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness! Hope you guys enjoy!

Steve felt like shit. There was no other way to describe it, just pure unadulterated shit. It was like he was ran over by a thousand semis and landed back in the Potomac river to drown. He didn’t want to open his eyes, he wanted to go back to the warm darkness that made him feel comforted and loved, not whatever this was. He knew he had to though, his team needed him, Nat and Sam needed him. They needed to wipe out HYDRA and SHIELD for good, and they needed to be united if they wanted to accomplish that.

With a sigh he opened his eyes, and instantly closed them again as the light from above blinded him. He groaned, blinking away the bright spots clouding his vision as he took scope of the room. That’s when he started panicking.

It wasn’t a hospital, it was more of an underground cellar that was damp and muggy, which explained part of why he was feeling like shit, except it didn’t explain why he was here. He tried to sit up and found that he couldn’t. Not because his body protested, which it did, but because he was strapped down to the table with thick metal cords encasing his wrists. He tried moving his legs only to come to the same result.

Steve tried to talk and found that he couldn’t, something was shoved inside. Gagging him. He tried to force the bonds only to find that his body was considerably weak. He was worn out, lethargic, like in the aftermath of the first alien invasion with Loki and the aliens, only this time it was worse because of his wounds. He wasn’t wearing his hoody anymore, leaving his chest exposed to reveal the changed bandages along his front which made him more confused because last time he saw them he was starting to bleed through them.

It was when he heard the door behind him open and shut that he remembered why he couldn’t talk, why he was tied up, and why he wasn’t in the hospital getting the care he needed as footsteps started coming towards him with loud, purposeful sounds.

Steve looked behind him as best as he could, and sure enough Bucky stepped through the shadows carrying a cardboard box and wearing that calculated look on his face. He was wearing a plain black shirt, dark jeans, and the same combat boots. His hair was loose, framing his face like curtains trying to block out the sun. He breezed past Steve, heading towards a metal table with supplies on it. He placed the box on it before rolling the table over to Steve.

“You’re awake,” Bucky mumbled, moving to stand next to him, his hands moving to one of his bonds. “I’m going to untie this hand so I can put your shoulder back into place. If you cooperate, I’ll remove the gag. If you don’t it stays in until you behave yourself. Understood?”

Steve nodded, knowing he didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, he needed answers from Bucky, some sort of explanation as to what brought this on, and some water as well. His throat was burning from thirst.

Bucky made quick work of Steve’s restraint, gingerly massaging his wrist to let the blood circulate before he placed his hand on his shoulder and went to work. The pain was surreal, made Steve glad there was something in his mouth so that he didn’t break his teeth from clenching them so hard. The pops from his shoulder practically echoed through the room, as did Steve’s muffled cries and struggles on the table.

He tried to stay still for the most part, not wanting to give Bucky a reason to think otherwise. His eyes focused on his face in hopes it’ll distract him from the pain, but also to measure Bucky’s reactions. There wasn’t much change in his expression, for the most part he was a picture of calm calculation. The only changes Steve caught was when his jaw would clench at Steve’s cries, the slight furrowing of his brow when Steve struggled to breathe, and the gentle, soothing caress he used on Steve’s wrist in his flesh hand as his metal hand worked his shoulder into place.

This wasn’t the soldier, this was Bucky. Maybe not the Bucky he knew, far too much time has passed for that, but it was Bucky. A battered, warped version without a doubt, but a version that Steve knew he was safe with. Then again, if this was Bucky, the guy patching him up and taking care of him with a somewhat gentle touch, that means Bucky was the one who blew up a hospital and kidnapped him. It was Bucky who killed innocent people to get to Steve and threatened to kill more if Steve didn’t do as he said. It was Bucky who restrained him, drugged him, and gagged him in the back of a car before successfully kidnapping him.

 _Am I safe with him?_ Steve pondered. His mind rightfully questioned the notion due to the evidence stacked up against Bucky, but his heart shamed him for the thought. It was like Bucky said, if he was going to kill Steve, he would have left him in the river to drown. The real question is why he went to all this trouble in the first place. Why was he doing this, and what does he plan to do next?

With one last pop Steve’s shoulder was set. Steve groaned from the pain, trying to even his breathing while Bucky gingerly laid Steve’s hand against his chest, his thumb stroking the back of his hand before turning away. He grabbed something from the metal table, a sling from the looks of it, before facing him once more.

He leaned over Steve, staring deep into his eyes as he undid his other wrist.

“Don’t try anything,” he ordered as the metal cord came off. He moved behind Steve to help sit him up, placing pressure at the base of his neck and uninjured shoulder. Still, the pain from his shoulder singed and the bullet wounds joined in to make a terrible harmony. Steve whimpered into the gag as he tried to focus on the room. It was spinning. Spinning so fast that if it weren’t for Bucky he would have slumped back onto the table. He must have sensed the state that Steve was in because he made quick work wrapping the sling around his torso, setting his arm at the appropriate angle to alleviate the pain before gently laying him back out.

He disappeared while Steve took the time to breathe, to settle his surroundings before he passed out or worse. He dimly felt Bucky messing with the bonds at his feet, followed by an expletive that Steve wasn’t sure he heard correctly before Bucky was suddenly at his side again slipping his hands beneath Steve and lifting him into his arms.

Steve quickly pulled his free, uninjured arm free to wrap across Bucky’s shoulders as he carried him out of the room and into an equally dim hallway. He didn’t fight him, he wasn’t in any state to fight, and despite all the horrible things that happened to get them here, Steve knew that even if he had been in any condition to fight, he wouldn’t. He won’t fight him again, not if he had any choice in the matter. All he wanted to do was protect him, to help him just as Bucky was doing for him right now in his own demented way.

Bucky kept glancing at him as he carried him down the dark corridor, concern coloring his pale face as his grip tightened on Steve’s body. His jaw was rigid, his brow furrowed in a way that made Steve believe this was now part of his natural expression from years of constant stress and abuse. With the long hair and general unkempt nature, he was a rugged piece of art that Steve would stare at all day if he could.

What was wrong with him? He has just been kidnapped by this man, a man that probably didn’t fully know who he was yet. Steve distantly remembered their tense, brief conversation in the car that Bucky remembered flashes of his old life, flashes that primarily revolved around Steve. He didn’t mention any flashes that were primarily about Bucky Barnes before the war meaning that though he claimed to remember Steve, it doesn’t necessarily mean he remembers who he is.

That leaves Steve with a few ways to think about Bucky’s reasons for kidnapping him. The first being that he could take Bucky at face value and believe him when he says he’s trying to keep Steve safe, which is entirely plausible if entirely the wrong way of doing it. It also makes sense given the fact that he’s trying to escape HYDRA as well, him being their “asset” on the run after all. This could be a new version of Bucky that is honestly trying to protect his best friend evidenced by caring for his injuries when he could let them fester or heal on their own.

Another way to think about it is this wasn’t Bucky’s doing, but the Winter Soldier’s. The Winter Soldier is an assassin, a cold and calculated murderer who only ever does what he’s explicitly ordered to do. Could this be a ruse? Could HYDRA have gotten hold of him again and ordered him to track down Captain America and take him hostage? It would explain the dingy locale and why he was tied to a table when he woke up, but it doesn’t explain why he cared for his injuries, kept his word to Steve and held back from hurting civilians, or the kiss that Steve found himself doubting ever happened. None of those things were the Winter Soldier, which left Steve with a shaky conclusion.

It was both. The violent brutality used against the guards, the planned bombs and the coded texts used to help smuggle Steve out of the hospital, the force used to keep Steve bound and under his control, that was the Winter Soldier. The conversation in the car, the briefest moments of warmth in those blue eyes within the cold premeditation, that wistful look, the way he gently squeezed Steve’s hands to calm him down or reassure him, that kiss. God that kiss. That was Bucky, or as close to being Bucky as he could be.

The two were working in tandem, and for the life of Steve he couldn’t figure out why.

Bucky suddenly took them into a room, this one less dingy and muggy than the last one but still held the grime and discoloration. There was rusty metal table in here as well but mercifully Bucky passed it and set him in a chair instead. Steve felt his body slump into it before slowly falling forward towards the ground. Bucky caught him and pressed his back against the cold padding of the seat. He kept a firm grip on his shoulder as he grabbed Steve’s right hand and placed it on the arm rest. Sure enough, before he had the chance to stop him, Bucky tied him up again with the same peculiar metal cords from the table.

“Don’t struggle, or the gag stays in,” Bucky warned with a look in his eyes that brokered no argument.

Steve groaned in response, not bothering to hide his frustration as he glared at his friend.

Bucky continued tying Steve to the chair, binding each foot to an exposed chair leg before quickly moving behind Steve and using the metal cords to strap his waist to the chair. His left arm was already in a sling, so he thankfully left it alone to heal. He didn’t struggle, just as Bucky ordered. There was no point to struggling now. His throat was starting to burn bad and he needed to get water in him soon. There will undoubtedly come a time where Steve would have to resist Bucky, but right now he needed to focus on healing and figuring a way out of this mess.

Seemingly satisfied with his handy work, Bucky backed away to look Steve up and down, head to toe with a scrupulous look in his eyes. He nodded to himself like he answered his own unspoken question before turning away and walking out of the room. Steve stared as he left, his eyes going wide with disbelief as he fought the plethora of thoughts that began to swirl around in his head. The bulk of them largely centered around the irrational notion that Bucky was going to leave him there to die.

_Was he going to leave him there to die?_

Steve wrestled with his mind, debunking all the wild notions with credible facts, taking deep breaths through his nose in attempt to calm his panicked thoughts when Bucky reentered the room. He carried a tray that was full of containers. Based off the shape and size of them he’d guess food containers, but that could be wishful thinking. They were made of some type of metal, the glare of the fluorescent lights pinged off them at an odd array of angles. Bucky set the tray down on the table rolling it over until it was next to Steve and walked up close until he stood between his bound legs.

Bucky used his flesh hand to gently grab Steve’s jaw and lift his face up to look at him. He expected to see the same coldness in his eyes, surmising that whenever there was a need to be rough and cruel, the Soldier was at the forefront. His eyes were warm, a little sad even, which meant that this had to be Bucky. Hopefully.

“Ready to lose the gag?”

It sounded like a rhetorical question, but Steve answered with a nod anyway, not wanting there to be any confusion.

Bucky doesn’t move. He stares at Steve, thumb caressing his smooth jawline while his metal thumb strokes his Adams apple, making Steve tremble. Bucky’s mouth quirked, his metal hand moving to grip the back of his neck, the cool temperature of it sending a tremor down Steve’s spine, as his flesh hand slowly worked the tape off his mouth. It didn’t hurt that much, the dull pain quickly subsided in the relief of Bucky’s fingers digging out the wad of torn cloth, finally freeing him of the gag.

Steve breathed in a huge gulp of air, closing his mouth and reorienting his jaw, the muscles complaining after being in that open position for so long. Bucky cupped his face in his hands, the difference in temperatures jarring Steve slightly as he looked up into those blue eyes. The way Bucky stared at him made Steve’s face go hot, his palms sweaty and for the life of him he didn’t know why. The pad of Bucky’s thumb brushed Steve’s bottom lip, his breath hitching as a result. The corners of Bucky’s mouth quirked until they made a small, gentle smile.

“Bucky?” Steve breathed.

His smile grew, “Steve.”

He winced at the burn in his throat, “Water,” he grated, turning his head away to cough.

He felt Bucky’s fingers tangle in his hair before abruptly pulling his head back up to look at him. Bucky reached out to the table and grab one of the cylindrical containers and popped the top off easily before bringing it to Steve’s lips.

“Drink,” Bucky ordered, and Steve complied, relief spreading through his body as the cold water touched his tongue and began to soothe the horrid burn in his throat. Bucky petted him all the while, his fingers gently grazing his scalp, watching Steve with a studious expression. Steve didn’t notice the way Bucky was watching him, too concerned with rehydrating. When Bucky pulled the water away Steve attempted to follow it, but Bucky held him back by his hair as Steve fought to catch his breath.

Steve whimpered, licking his chapped lips for an excess water before staring up at Bucky.

“Thanks,” Steve breathed, not sure what else to say.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky answered, his eyes raking over Steve’s face. “Do you need more?”

Steve hesitated, pondering whether he did need more or not before silently nodding. Bucky obliged, pressing the cylinder back to Steve’s lips, and petting his hair once more. Maintaining his hold on Steve’s hair all the while.

“You hungry?” Bucky asked, voice deep and husky. Startling blue eyes darkening the slightest bit as he pulled the container away and set it on the table, fastening the top back onto the cylinder.

Steve gasped in a few more breaths, watching Bucky warily. “I could eat.”

Bucky nodded reaching out and grabbing another container, quickly popping the top and bringing it to Steve’s lips. “It’s bone broth. Drink it.”

Steve did so willingly, not as manic and urgent as previously. This time he moved slower, kept his wits and paid attention to the man in front of him. The liquid was still warm, coating his tongue in its bland flavor and mercifully soothing the ache in his throat. He watched Bucky’s expression. Noticed how intense and dark it was. The darkness in those confused Steve. It wasn’t the same empty, lethal look he gave Steve on the bridge and the Helicarrier. It wasn’t the same urgent look when he was pushing Steve down and giving him orders in the hospital. This was different. This was deeper.

But what could it be?

He thought back to conversations. Conversations with Tony and his various exploits. Conversations with Howard and “fondueing”. The look on Peggy’s face when she saw him return with Bucky, the Howling Commandos, and the 107th all those years ago. Thought about Natasha’s consistent jibes and old man jokes, the kiss she shared with him on the escalator to hide from the HYDRA agents. Something about this look triggered those memories, but surely it couldn’t be so.

Then he thought about that kiss. The sensation it wrought through him still left strange tingles and shivers in his skin, his bones, his muscle. The kiss that caused his breath to hitch the slightest bit, almost choking on the broth that Bucky fed him. The kiss that made his heart skip a beat. Bucky’s expression grew in the darkness when Steve pulled back, eyes watching Steve’s tongue lick away leftover drops on his lips. Steve startled at the intensity, breath hitching once more.

Bucky fastened the lid on the broth and placed it back on the table, eyes never leaving Steve’s. Once his hand was free it immediately went back to Steve’s face. Warm, calloused skin caressing the line of Steve’s jaw like he was a painter adding small, intricate details into Steve, his masterpiece. It made Steve’s heart speed up slightly, the sheer intensity of his expression. The careful, purposeful movements he made concerning Steve.

What was he going to do?

“Where are we?” Steve asked, desperate to find something, anything to lessen that intensity. To get him thinking.

Instead of easing the darkness, his question seemed to encourage it. “You don’t need to know. Won’t be here long enough to make a difference.”

Bucky’s metal hand descended down his chest, the cold tips of his fingers leaving chills and goosebumps in their wake.

“Buck,” Steve spoke firmly, attempting to mask the shakiness he felt. “Where are you taking me? What’s your plan here?”

“I told you, Steve.” He responded in a deep, menacing tone. Speaking slowly as if he were mulling over the words. “I’m getting us somewhere safe. Away from HYDRA. Away from the Avengers. Away from the fights. Away from them all.” He took a deep breath, cocking his head ever so slightly, “somewhere they’ll never find us.”

His fingers reached the bandages on Steve’s torso. With a sigh, he pulled his hand away as to not disturb them. Steve only had a moment to breathe in relief until that hand descended and rested on the top part of Steve’s right thigh.

“Somewhere it can be just us,” Bucky continued, the pad of his human thumb brushing Steve’s bottom lip. “A place we can be free. Where we can be us without everything crashing down and burying us deep. Just like it always has.”

“What do you-” Steve attempted, but Bucky put a hand over his mouth, silencing him.

“I know this ain’t right,” he continued, metal fingers moving in small circles on top of Steve’s thigh. “What we’re doing here, what I’m doing to you, and what I’m going to do to you once we leave. I know it ain’t right. It’s not the way I wanted it to be, at least the Bucky you knew wouldn’t have wanted it this way. Me? I don’t care how it goes. Not anymore. I just know I want it to happen, and I’m going to make it happen.”

He stood up suddenly, leaning his wide, hulking frame over Steve’s captured form who sat completely motionless in terror. The corners of his mouth quirked slightly. His hand remained over Steve’s mouth, forcing him to listen.

“Seventy years they tried to make me forget you. Seventy years they wiped my mind, tortured me like an animal, and molded me into the ultimate weapon. For seventy years I fought, scratched and clawed to remember who I was, to keep something of me alive. For seventy years, the one thing I kept, the one thing they couldn’t get rid of, was a single memory. A memory tied to a thought I could never ignore no matter hard I tried. Believe me, I tried but I could do it.” His lips quirked again, lowering his body just enough until he was eye to eye with Steve. “You want to know what it was? The one thing that wouldn’t go away? The memory that always brought everything back to me?”

He leaned in, forehead resting against Steve’s, hot breath coating his face. “It’s your eyes Steve. Can never forget those fucking blue eyes,” he pulled back just to gaze intently in Steve, his metal hand shifting to grab Steve’s bound hand, “and the thought of what they’d look when I did this.”

Suddenly, fast as lightning, Bucky’s human hand moved away from Steve’s face and shot down to grab his-

Steve gasped, chest pushed out, body jumping up at the sudden intrusion. Eyes widening in shock, never leaving Bucky’s as his best friend, his teammate, his _brother_ for gods sake, began grasping and fondling his clothed dick. His mouth was free now, and it popped open at the action, but no sound came out. Only panicking breaths that only escalated at the smile lighting up Bucky’s expression.

“I knew it,” Bucky spoke softly, tone filled with awe and relief. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” His metal hand moved to grab Steve’s hair, pulling on it and tilting his head back to expose his throat. “The way your eyes went soft in the car, the way you relaxed when we kissed, the goosebumps on your chest, the shivers, pulse quickening, breath hitching. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” His hand scooped underneath, finding his balls and gripping tightly, but not painfully. His smile grew as Steve reacted once more. The sensations far more impactful with a powerful punch. “All the times you’d watch me with those dames back in the day. On those dates you’d give them a polite smile before watching me all night with that piercing look you had. The way you relaxed and snuggled against my chest when you were sick ‘cause you knew I’d take care of you. And that’s right Steve. I’ll always take care of you. Always be with you. No matter what.”

Steve breathed fast underneath him, confused and overwhelmed by the sensations. A blush overtook his face, leaving him hot and breathless beneath Bucky’s scrutinous, victorious gaze. He’d never felt them before, not even with his own hand. He doesn’t understand what’s going on. Nothing he’s been through has prepared him for this. All he knows is that Bucky’s right here, and even though he’s fully aware that Bucky’s the one who’s causing it, his heart is sure that Bucky’s going to take care of it too. Frozen and scared, he trusts Bucky. He’ll always trust Bucky.

“James Barnes wanted you, Stevie. Wanted to take you to his bed and love you deeply, slowly until neither of you could move. The Winter Soldier wants to fuck you bloody, come inside that tight ass over and over until your stomach is bulging, and then he wants to do it more. Me? I just want you. Anyway I can, I will. I’ll fuck you bloody, I’ll love you deeply from sunrise to sunset, sunset to sunrise, whatever suits us best at the time. I’ll make you scream and cry, moan and groan around my dick and the things I want to do to you. I’ll hold you tight and whisper sweet things. I’ll do anything you want. Except let you go. I’ll never do that again.

He pressed his forehead against Steve’s once more, growling deeply. “I let you go to join the war. I let you go on that train as I fell. I let you go on that bridge. Let you go on that helicarrier. Not again. Never again. Every time I let you go things only get worse for the both of us.” He breathed deep, hot breath hitting Steve’s flushed skin. “You’re mine Steve Rogers, and I’ll never let you go again.”

Then his lips were on Steve’s, and everything exploded.

[ ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F347269821252867393%2F&psig=AOvVaw1qdDYvBMMzf_HyZ6nXJhmR&ust=1586323491952000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLCwn-LJ1egCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAV)

I love this picture :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! :D Still haven't decided what I'm going to do with this, but again if you guys want more then please let me know. My primary focus is on one of my other stories right now, but if there's enough of you that want to see more for this little one shot then please leave a comment and let me know :D. You're the best!


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